Black Moonlight by Amy Patricia Meade Read Free Book Online

her way down the remainder of the steps. “What about the rest of your things?”
    “I’ll send someone for them.” She began to sob heavily. “Or …
or … or … or … I’ll come back for them in the morning. I always say I’m leaving, but I always come back … I always come back! I love him, but God—I hate him!”
    Marjorie watched as Griselda headed off down the path to the cliff-side steps. Marjorie intended to follow, to ensure that Griselda did not fall, until she noticed a figure seated crossed-legged on the lawn. A few feet away, she could see the silhouette of a cat happily chasing low-flying insects.
    “Creighton?” Marjorie called. “Creighton?”
    “I’m here,” he answered.
    Marjorie slipped out of her shoes and ran to him. “Oh, Creighton! Thank goodness!” she exclaimed as she fell onto the ground at her husband’s side. “I’ve been looking for you.”
    “I’m sorry, Marjorie,” Creighton apologized and embraced her tightly.
    “Don’t be silly,” she soothed. “You couldn’t help it.”
    “I can help my temper, darling, and I should have. It’s not like my father’s behavior should come as a surprise to me. Not after all he’s done.”
    “I don’t think his behavior was so much a surprise as it was disappointing,” she commented.
    “Perhaps,” Creighton allowed before sighing deeply. “I’m sorry we came here, Marjorie. I’m sorry we stayed tonight. We should have taken our things and headed on the next steamship out of here.”
    “And then you would have felt badly because I was seasick,” she reasoned.
    Creighton laughed weakly. “Yes, I probably would have.”
    “Not ‘probably.’ Definitely.”
    There was a long pause before Creighton spoke again. “I’m still sorry I lost my temper. I could have—”
    “But you didn’t,” Marjorie interrupted.
    “I know, but I was there again, Marjorie. I was eight years old again and listening to him and my mother argue. She had been sick for what seemed like an eternity. And he …” Creighton swallowed hard before starting again. “My mother had discovered that my father had been having an affair. I listened from outside the door as he disclosed every disgusting detail. The things he said to her …”
    Marjorie took him in her arms and held him tightly.
    “She died the next morning,” he continued after some time had passed. “We buried her three days later. Through it all, he never shed a tear. And I could never look at him the same way. Odd thing is, he never looked at me the same way either.”
    Creighton inhaled sharply. “If Selina hadn’t stepped in tonight, I’m terrified to think of what I might have done. I’m still terrified …”
    “It’ll be alright, darling. We just need to get you out of here,” Marjorie asserted. “We need to get you out of here as soon as possible.”

Located on the west side of the building, Marjorie and Creighton’s bedroom was hidden away from the bright rays of the morning sun. Instead, daylight crept slowly through the shuttered windows, basking the room in a warm, soft glow.
    Despite the distress caused by the previous night’s events, Creighton had managed to enjoy a few hours of fitful slumber. Marjorie, on the other hand, had lain awake for hours until finally succumbing to her tiredness some time just before dawn.
    As the bedside clock ticked slowly toward eight, Creighton pulled back the covers and, trying not to awaken his sleeping wife, tiptoed into the bathroom. He turned on the tap, splashed some cold water on his unshaven face, and prepared himself for the day ahead. He desperately wanted to leave the island, but Griselda’s departure in the speedster the night before had left him and Marjorie, for all intents and purposes, stranded.
    He had overheard Griselda tell Marjorie that she might return in the morning, but the elaborate nature of Griselda’s makeup and wardrobe told Creighton that her morning ablutions were not of the speedy variety and